It was difficult to leave Dakhla. It was the one place we had visited thus far that we all truly enjoyed, and we would have loved to spend more time there. The decision to go to Fez and Marrakech was, in retrospect, a foolish one. There was no reason to take up days in cities that are completely accessible, as opposed to those only reached via overlanding.

Engrossing stuff. Jimmy's one-upper personality trait could always be counted on to excite John. Such profound philosophizing filled our long days in the car. Today looked to be especially so. We were we limping along in search of the nearest town with tires. It appeared that John and I, being his constant inhabitants, had rubbed off on Red Rover. Reflecting our shared disposition, he obstinately refused to retain the air we continually pumped into his leaking tire.